Requiem for a Lizard
by Gingham
Summary: Jack is in need of comfort when an old friend from 'Blood and Circuses' passes away. Set during season 2.


"Are you alright, Sir?"

Collins stopped him as he headed for the door. He turned to see his constable's eyes full of sympathy.

"Of course, Collins. It's just been a long day."

He stepped out of the front door of City South and took in a lungful of the cool night air. The thought of going home, showering off the stresses of the day and drowning his sorrows in a bottle of Scotch seemed strangely unsatisfying.

He hadn't been able to share his sadness with the men at City South. They would have thought him over-sentimental. And he didn't want anyone to think he was trying to apportion blame. It was just one of those things.

But he wanted to see someone. And not anyone. A particular someone.

Ten minutes later, he was knocking on her door.

()

It was, Mr Butler thought, an unusually serious knock, even for the Detective Inspector.

"Good evening, Inspector."

"Mr Butler," the Inspector acknowledged him with a rumble that was if possible, at an even lower register than usual. It was then that Mr Butler noticed that his guest's face was grey, his eyes red. He knew Miss Fisher wasn't expecting him, but he opened the door wide anyway. "Please, come in."

"Thank you," came another low rumble. The Inspector's sombre expression changed to one of mild horror as he suddenly seemed to become aware of the noise emanating from the parlour. The jovial music and laughter seemed horribly at odds with the Inspectors pallor, and Mr Butler found himself, ludicrously, almost embarrassed by the contrast.

"Was Miss Fisher expecting you, Sir?"

"No…" The Inspector dragged his eyes from the parlour door and met his, uncertainly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have… I mean, I didn't know she had company. I won't intrude."

Noting how ill the Inspector looked, Mr Butler took pity on him. "I'm sure she won't mind, Sir. I'll let her know you're here."

"No, I –"

He was cut off short as the parlour door opened and the lady in question stepped out.

"Jack!"

He swallowed as he met her surprised gaze. "Miss Fisher, my apologies. I didn't mean to interrupt."

She appraised him as he stood before her, nervously twisting his hat in front of him. He seemed to wither under her scrutiny; turning a little paler, the frown lines in his forehead deepening. She reached out for his arm with concern.

Jack backed away, apologising again. He was all too aware of the contrast between them. Her; resplendent in a black fringed evening gown and a vibrant jade green shawl. Some matching jewel blinked and flickered in her hair. She was dazzling. Whilst he, he felt sure, looked every minute of his 14 hour shift.

"Thank you, Mr Butler." Faithful retainer summarily dismissed, Phryne Fisher turned her attention back to Jack with a frown.

"Is everything alright?"

"I should have called ahead. I didn't realise you were entertaining."

"It's just a small group of friends, they'll wait."

Jack could have sworn he heard Mac's laughter ricocheting around the parlour at some unheard joke. Phryne didn't seem to hear it, regarding him with concern.

"It's not important," he reassured her. "It'll keep."

"Jack, you look tired. Has something happened?" She took another step forward.

Jack swallowed again. This was not going well. When he left the police station and his legs seemed to automatically walk in the direction of Phryne's house, he could only think of her quiet, empty parlour, some good whisky and the soft smile of his hostess. Now he was here, he felt ridiculous. Did he really think she spent every evening alone, waiting for him? Even worse, was her house the only place he felt he could find solace after a bad day?

"I'm…. I'm not here in any official capacity. I just…" he stopped, bringing a hand up to rub across the growth of stubble on his cheeks.

"You don't need an official reason to come here Jack, you know that."

It was true. How many times she had many it plain to him that he would be welcome in her home any time. It was him who had fought to retain the boundaries, he who had always made sure he had a constabulary reason for being there. And yet today….

"It's just that…" his jaw clenched. "Elsie Tizzard died today."

He avoided her eyes, scared that she would think he was ridiculous in his affection for the old, drunken soak who was his first ever arrest on the job. He didn't think he could stand ridicule now. Not from Phryne.

"Oh, Jack." Her voice poured comfort directly into his soul. He looked up to meet her eyes, finding such compassion that it almost broke him. "Your favourite," she said.

He smiled and nodded. His favourite.

"I'm so sorry," she murmured, placing her hand on his arm and rubbing it gently. "Come through to the kitchen," she said, pulling slightly on his elbow.

"No, you're busy," Jack protested. "I'm not sure why I came, I just… wanted to see a friendly face."

She moved closer to him. "You know you're always welcome, Jack." She reached up and cupped his cheek in her palm. She smiled slightly, an affectionate, teasing look in her eye. "And I always want to see your face."

He smiled back. "What about your guests?"

"They'll barely notice I'm gone. Come on. I'll make you some cocoa."

He let her lead him into the kitchen and sit him down at the table. She lit the hob under a pan of cocoa already sitting there.

"When I said, "I'll make some cocoa"," Phryne said. "Obviously I meant I'd heat some up that Dot made earlier."

"Obviously," Jack responded with a smile. But his mind kept returning to the party going on in the parlour. "It must seem silly to you, my turning up like this."

"Don't be ridiculous, Jack." She gave him a stern look. "I know how much she meant to you."

He exhaled. "She was… one of a kind."

She poured the hot cocoa into a cup and set it in front of him. "What happened?" she asked, sliding into the chair across from him.

"Last night… she was arrested for drunk and disorderly." Jack began. "Fairly usual occurrence for Else, unfortunately."

Phryne nodded, letting him continue.

"I wasn't there, but she was put in the cells for the night to dry out. The boys know to do that with her, I never wanted her out wandering the streets when she was in that state. And they know to check on her every hour. At least," Jack frowned. "They should do. They said they did."

"I'm sure they did what was right, Jack."

"I know." Jack nodded, looking straight at her. "I'm sure they did. I just… wish I could have been there."

"So what happened?"

"About three o'clock in the morning, one of the Constables went into check on her… and she was flat out on the floor." He swallowed tightly. "The doctor said it was probably her heart."

"Oh, Jack."

"By the time I got there, she'd been taken away."

"There was nothing you could have done," Phryne said softly. She put her hand over his. "It was just her time."

"I know. She didn't look after herself and she'd had a hard life. But somehow it was still a shock. She was such a character."

"I wish I'd met her."

"You didn't?"

"I overheard you talking to her. And I met her son," she said darkly, remembering the escaped convict who had been part of her circus investigation. "But I never actually met Mrs. Tizzard."

"I wish you had," Jack said sincerely.

"So do I. I would have loved to have heard stories about a young PC Robinson!" The twinkle in her eye made Jack smile.

"She loved to tell them," he said ruefully.

"You told me she was your first arrest. What was it for?"

He smiled wider at the memory. "Assault."

"On who?"

"On me. She whacked a saucepan into my ribs."

Phryne couldn't help but laugh. "What happened?"

"She was wanted for questioning in regards to the whereabouts of her husband. He was no good, a petty thief who got mixed up with the wrong sort of people. Got himself run out of town a few years later as a result. But back then he was wanted for a bank robbery in Richmond. I tried to question her at her home, and she hit me with the pan then ran out the back door."

"How enterprising!" Phryne said with some amusement.

"She didn't hit me hard, but enough to knock the wind out of me. I tried to chase her out the back door, but," he laughed. "I didn't get very far."

"So how did you get her?"

"She came back to help me," Jack admitted.

Phryne looked outraged. "And you arrested her?"

"She insisted. She said I was the first polite copper she'd met and she didn't want to ruin my credibility." He smiled fondly. "She even put the handcuffs on herself."

Phryne grinned. "I love the sound of her." She squeezed his hand. "A real lady."

Jack squeezed back, contemplating the woman sat in front of him. Who else would describe a woman who assaulted a policeman as a "real lady"? Somebody who would probably have done the same, he thought.

"As a police officer you see so many people who have been shaped by the awful things that happen to them, moulded into these bitter, twisted beings," he said slowly. "How many people have we seen whose past traumas have made them commit acts of the utmost evil? But then you see people who have struggled through the most difficult circumstances and come out with an amazing capacity for kindness and generosity of spirit."

"Like Elsie Tizzard," said Phryne, nodding.

"And you," said Jack quietly. "There are similarities between you, you know. I mean that as a compliment," he hastened to add as Phryne looked up in surprise.

"I know," she replied sincerely. "I'm honoured."

He smiled and drained his cup. "I should leave you to your guests."

Phryne felt a stab of disappointment. She had almost forgotten the soiree upstairs. "You don't need to. Join us, if you like?"

Jack stood, taking his hat from the table. "Uh… not tonight."

"No." Phryne felt foolish. "You won't be in the mood I suppose."

Jack shook his head apologetically. "I'll go out this way," he indicated to the back door. "Thank you for the cocoa, Miss Fisher."

Phryne rose. "I thought we agreed you weren't here for an official reason?"

"Thank you for the cocoa, _Phryne_ ," he corrected. She rewarded him with a proud smile.

"Any time, Jack." She squeezed his arm through his overcoat.

He gave her a final smile as he put on his hat and left through the door.

She looked after him for a moment. How unfortunate that this had been the night she had arranged for a social gathering of the ladies from the Adventurer's Club! She could see that Jack needed her. He had been there for her on every occasion she had needed him. She wanted to do the same for him. But it wasn't just about reciprocity. His affection for Elsie Tizzard was just one thing in a catalogue of characteristics that showed her what a good man Jack Robinson was, but it had surprised her all the same, the first time she had seen it.

She had been returning from the cells after her talk with former magician's assistant Miss Parks when she spotted Jack and Hugh at the desk with a middle aged woman whose clothes had seen far better days and who was emitting a strong odour of drink. At first she was frustrated she had to wait; she had more evidence to impart. But she could hardly go out and interrupt them whilst dressed as a circus performer, so she waited at the door to his office, watching the conversation from afar. She expected Jack to be curt with the woman; he didn't like his officers' time being wasted. But as she heard her refer to Jack as the "nicest" officer on the force, she felt a strange sense of pride swell in her chest. It only grew bigger as Jack treated the woman with respect and affection, referring to her as 'Else' and then, most surprisingly, asking Hugh to make sure she got home safely. When Jack wandered back to his office and saw her leaning against the door, she never mentioned the exchange. But she hadn't thought she could think more highly of Jack up till then, and afterwards, somehow, she did.

Phryne turned the lock in the back door, a pang of regret that she couldn't have stayed comforting Jack for much, much longer.

Then she returned to her party.

()

It was an unfeelingly bright and sunny Friday morning. But Inspector Robinson and Constable Collins were out of the rays of the windows as they walked through the small church that had been selected for Elsie Tizzard's funeral. The sun shone, appropriately, on the plain wooden coffin on the altar. It looked…nice, Jack thought. He had chosen the small and rather dingy church in the hope that its size would make the attendance look large by comparison. But as he looked around he could see this had been a vain hope. The only mourners were a couple of elderly neighbours who were probably in attendance due to a love of funerals, and himself and Collins. As he knew no family would be here (her only family was still firmly behind bars) he had no compunction in directing Collins down to the front pew. As he stood aside to allow his colleague in first, he realised that his impression of brightness from the altar wasn't just down to the sun's rays. He frowned, puzzled, as he took his seat. He had sent flowers himself, and could see them displayed prominently near the front. But her had no idea where the others had come from, a sea of roses and lilies that seemed to fill the alter and provide a colourful, soft cushion for the coffin.

He peered closely at the arrangement. It was bright yet tasteful. It reminded him of…

"Hello Jack," came a whisper beside him. He jumped as Phryne slid into the pew and sat down close to him.

"Miss Fisher," he said, surprised.

"Shhh," was all she said in reply, before the organ started up and the congregation rose to their feet.

()

Collins had returned to the station and the other mourners departed. Jack and Phryne walked down a sunlit street, her arm linked through his.

She had sat in respectful silence throughout the service. He only movement had been her small hand slipping into his when the vicar read the final psalm:

" _Teach me Your way, O Lord_

 _And lead me in a smooth path, because of my enemies._

 _Do not deliver me to the will of my adversaries_

 _For false witnesses have risen against me,_

 _And such as breathe out violence_

 _I would have lost heart, unless I had believed_

 _That would see the goodness of the Lord_

 _In the land of the living"_

Now, out in the fresh air and the bright sun, he said:

"You didn't need to come, you know."

"I wanted to," she replied. "Ever since you pointed out our similarities, I've felt quite the affinity with Mrs. Tizzard."

"And the flowers were from you too?" At her nod, he placed his hand over hers. "Thank you."

She avoided his eyes. "It was nothing. I felt she deserved to go out in style."

Smiling, he stopped walking and turned towards her. Leaning down, he planted a kiss on her cheek.

"What was that for?" Phryne asked smilingly.

Jack just grinned wider. "You're a class act, Miss Fisher."

Phryne bit her lip, unable to stop her answering grin spreading across her face. She took hold of his arm again and then propelled them forward.

"Come back to mine. You deserve a good lunch. And a stiff drink."

"I'd like that."

"Good. Besides," she directed a wicked smirk at him. "I want to hear much more about the adventures of PC Jack Robinson."


End file.
